


Closer

by theplatonicnonyeah



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-22
Updated: 2011-08-22
Packaged: 2017-10-22 22:46:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/243413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theplatonicnonyeah/pseuds/theplatonicnonyeah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A very short moment in time with no specific beginning or end. This is more trying to capture an atmosphere.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Closer

\- Look at me.  
Sherlock’s voice was low, almost inaudible. John could feel it vibrate through his body. He closed his eyes and felt the flat surface of the wall against his back. It was something solid to steady himself against when the whole world seemed to be liquefying. Sherlock’s hands were resting against the wall on either side of John’s head.

But they were not touching.

\- Look at me, Sherlock’s voice was closer now, almost in his ear, his right ear.  
John drew in his breath sharply. He was trying to control himself, his breathing, keeping it steady despite his racing heart, so he turned his head away from Sherlock. But he would not open his eyes. Not just yet. The wall was still there, standing firm against his trembling hands. Fingertips touching what must be the joint between two wallpaper lengths.  
He could feel Sherlock’s breath warm on his skin.

But they were still not touching.

They had begun to breathe in time with each other now, one man in, the other man out. Slowly, slowly. John opened his eyes and turned towards Sherlock. The first thing that came into focus was the little mole on the other man’s neck, just there on the pale skin above his shirt collar. Sherlock’s pulse was visibly faster than usual. The next thing he saw was Sherlock’s mouth with its perfect Cupid’s bow, the lips slightly parted.

\- Please, look at me. Sherlock’s voice was now a whisper, pleading but still steady. He wasn’t the sort of man that would beg or apologize. No, he was accustomed to people obeying his every whim. But this man, this John in front of him, would constantly take him aback. John raised his face slowly and met Sherlock’s eyes.

A rush of air through his lungs and then the world fell silent.


End file.
